


Sing for Absolution

by Aeruthin



Category: The Originals (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood Sharing, Bottom Elijah Mikaelson, Brother/Brother Incest, Family Feels, Feelings, Incest, M/M, Massage, Neck Kissing, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Klaus Mikaelson, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Reconciliation, Showers, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Smut, Top Klaus Mikaelson, much needed discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27865446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeruthin/pseuds/Aeruthin
Summary: After Finn dies for the second time, succumbing to Lucien's enhanced hybrid bite, Klaus keeps imagining what that bite could have looked like on Elijah's neck instead.Unable to sleep, Klaus finds Elijah in the study. There, the two brothers finally have a heart-to-heart about the enormous gap that exists between them since the defeat of Dahlia, and the yearning for each other that will always draw them back together.Or,Elijah's sudden mortality pushes Klaus to try and mend the bond that he broke, and he learns that he was not the only one affected by their separation.
Relationships: Elijah Mikaelson/Klaus Mikaelson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 79





	Sing for Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Sing for Absolution by Muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Ck6Hcg2cjk)

Klaus stalks through the dark corridors of the compound, muscles coiled with restless energy.

After Finn's ashes had drifted away and they'd arrived back at home, Freya had excused herself with a wavering voice. Klaus had retired as well, but the grey tint of Finn's skin had continued to plague him, combined with the captured wolves and the feeling of the White Oak inching towards Elijah's heart.

He had given up on sleep soon thereafter, and is now roaming the compound in search of a distraction, mind churning. 

How far did Lucien's manipulations stretch? Had he planned the appearance of the Strix? Had he purposely involved Aurora, knowing her past with Klaus would be a distraction? His loyalty and friendship had been based on hollow lies. Klaus should have killed him the moment he set foot in New Orleans.

He turns towards the study, half his mind on digging through the numerous grimoires they have gathered over the centuries, but halts as he finds the place already occupied. Elijah is in front of the fire, staring into the flames, one arm resting above the fireplace. 

Klaus hesitates, not sure if he can endure his brother's unrelenting judgement, but before he can decide whether or not to approach him, Elijah looks up. His thoughtful expression immediately becomes guarded, mask slipping into place. 

The silent dismissal grates against Klaus' frayed nerves. 

"You're not mourning Finn, are you?" he mocks, stepping inside, anger burning beneath the surface. His voice is loud in the quiet study, even to his own ears, but he doesn't tone it down. He is done with the gloom pervading the house.

Elijah eyes him briefly, before he shakes his head and returns his gaze to the fire. Klaus yearns to grab his shoulders, start a fight if only to get a response, but Elijah's quiet voice stops him.

"He felt it, Niklaus."

Klaus tilts his head.

"Yes," he drawls. "Given the ruckus Finn was making, I presume he di-"

"Not the wound." 

Elijah interrupts him sharply, impatiently, and Klaus raises an eyebrow as Elijah places his free hand against his forehead. 

"The dagger," he continues, tone calm again. "He became aware of his surroundings."

Klaus blinks in surprise. During his own short encounter with the dagger, he had only been aware of Dahlia's manipulations, not his body or the coffin his siblings had placed him in.

Elijah grimaces. 

"It seems we hurt him more than we realized."

For a moment, Klaus imagines it. Trapped in a small space, unable to move, with the knowledge that his family had left him there for all eternity. He shivers in horror before he kicks himself.

"Finn lost my grace when he went after Hope," he barks, pushing away any pity he might have felt. "And let us not forget that he hated us even before we found the daggers."

He smiles and gestures to Elijah.

"A sentiment you surely share. You liked Finn the least out of all of us."

Elijah's gaze borders on a glare.

"He could have been an ally." 

"With the risk of alienating Kol."

Finn's death had been peaceful in its final moments. And in any case, rather he die than-

"What's more important, is the threat we now face," Klaus continues, interrupting his own thoughts, trying to ignore what Finn's bite would look like on Elijah's neck. He clenches his fists in an effort to still the rising panic in his throat.

"Lucien is too dangerous."

"I'm well aware."

Elijah's voice is muffled in his ears.

"Good," Klaus huffs, forcing himself to respond. "Because-" 

Klaus' voice catches and he grimaces. Elijah frowns and finally turns towards him fully. 

"Niklaus?" Elijah prompts softly, concerned, and it is so close to how it had been before. Before Klaus had destroyed the bond between them. Before he had pushed Elijah too far. 

Klaus wants to flee, or fight, do anything, but his breathing is ragged, and Elijah is looking at him like he _cares_ , and if he lost that, truly lost that, he would not know if he'd survive, Hope or no Hope.

"It could have been you."

The confession is grating, and Klaus has to look away, body shaking.

"Niklaus-," Elijah starts, but it hardly registers through the roar in his ears. The pressure inside him builds, stoked by the fear and desperation of the past months, until he can't contain it.

"It could have been you!" 

The shout bursts from his throat, and he latches on to his anger. 

"Aurora nearly found her mark," he snarls. "If Lucien had bitten you-"

"He didn't."

"But if he had-"

Klaus' sentence ends in a strangled choke. 

He could tell his brother that he would go mad. It would be true. 

He could tell him that he needed him. It would be true. 

But it was impossible to truly convey the emptiness that stretched out before him at the thought of Elijah dying. The last months had been torture. He cannot fathom a world where Elijah is gone for good. A world where he did not have a change to make it right.

"Brother," he starts, anger dissolving as quickly as it came. "Elijah."

He lowers his head and draws in a deep, shaking breath, pushes through the instinctual fear of showing weakness. Of showing remorse.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice strained. "For what I did."

Elijah rocks back in surprise, eyes wide. Klaus waits quietly for his response. Hot tears are burning in his eyes, and he is tired, so incredibly tired. Of almost losing Rebekah. Of almost losing Camille. Of the endless gap between him and his brother.

"It won't bring her back," Elijah rasps, piercing through Klaus' thoughts. 

"I know."

"She was innocent."

Klaus clenches his jaw, familiar excuses burning on his tongue. He forces them down.

"I know," he whispers instead. 

"I can't forgive you for that, Brother."

Elijah's tone is pained, and Klaus swallows, a pool of dread gathering in his stomach. 

"But I'm sorry too."

Klaus' gaze snaps up, confused, and his breath catches. Finally, Elijah's expression is unguarded, and in it, Klaus sees guilt, and grief and pain. Elijah reaches out, his fingers ghosting over Klaus' heart.

"I never should have-"

Elijah stops and swallows. 

"I'm sorry, Brother." 

A shock courses through Klaus as the words settle in. Before Elijah can pull away, he snatches his wrist.

"Elijah-"

His brother's name is like plea on his tongue, laced with all frustration and desperation of the past few months. With trembling hand, he leads Elijah's wrist up to his mouth and presses a small kiss against the skin just below his palm.

Elijah stares at him, mouth slightly open. Slowly, hesitantly, he trails his fingers further up Klaus' cheek, and Klaus has to suppressed a moan at the featherlight touch. 

"Niklaus," Elijah breathes, strained. And then he steps forward, closing the distance between them, lips meeting Klaus' in a desperate clash. Klaus immediately curls his arms around his brother's hips, and pulling him close, eliminating every inch of space between them. 

God, he has missed this.

Together they tumble against the wall, and Klaus uses the hard surface to grind himself even closer, forcing the heat of Elijah's body against his own. Elijah whimpers at the pressure, but doesn't resist. His hands rake through Klaus' hair, over his shoulders and under his shirt. Their harsh pants mix as Klaus buries his face into Elijah's neck and sucks forcefully on his skin.

His brother's blood is singing, the rapid drum calling out to him, and his fangs throb with the need to bury them in his brother's flesh. He sucks harder, and Elijah lets out a chocked, guttural groan which sends shivers down Klaus' spine and heat coiling in his abdomen.

It's too much, too soon. He can scarcely think beyond the burning desire to taste his brother. To make sure he is still _here_ and _alive_ and _his_.

"Elijah-" he gasps, but Elijah is already murmuring a hungry string of _yes Niklaus please_ , turning his head to the side to give Klaus better access. It's all the encouragement he needs. His fangs sink into his brother's throat, puncturing the skin and drawing out his blood. The taste is intimately familiar, one he has cherished over and over again throughout the centuries, and Klaus almost sobs as the blood slides down his throat. He draws it out, sucking desperately, one hand curling around Elijah's wrist, ears filled with his brother's strangled but eager moans.

He can feel Elijah, beyond the physical, their minds blown open by the force of their union, all restrained gone. It is incredible, and intoxicating, and Klaus cannot get enough.

He finally extracts his fangs when Elijah's knees buckle. His brother sways in his arms, his breathing ragged, his expanded pupils completely swallowing the dark brown of his eyes. A red haze is spreading from the puncture wounds, courtesy of the venom in Klaus' fangs.

Elijah whines softly as Klaus steps away, in pain or need Klaus cannot tell. His hand is clutching the seem of Klaus' shirt, and he is leaning heavily against the wall.

"Hush, Brother," Klaus whispers, strokes his fingers across Elijah's cheek. Elijah leans into his palm, lips parted. His tongue darts out, searching for contact.

"Go on," Klaus encourages, and Elijah's fangs extend. They slip into Klaus' palm, almost gently, and Klaus closes his eyes, relishing in the soft burn as Elijah continues to drink. His body is humming in pleasure, his senses both sharper and more hazy than before. 

Elijah pulls away sooner than Klaus had, the wounds on his neck properly healed, and he presses a soft kiss against his palm.

"Bed?" Elijah suggests, and at Klaus' nod they stumble towards Klaus' room, hands clasped together. Once inside, Klaus slips Elijah's jacket from his shoulders and loosens his tie, dropping them on the ground beside the bed. He fumbles with the small buttons on Elijah's shirt, but his brother interrupts him impatiently, stealing another kiss before just pulling the shirt over his head. 

Klaus rakes his fingers over Elijah's now bare torso, hand resting briefly over the place where the bullet had penetrated his chest. The skin is unmarred, showing nothing to indicate what had happened, but Klaus can clearly remember his relief when Elijah's heart had started beating again.

Elijah slips his hands under Klaus' shirt, pulls it over his head, and continues pressing quick kisses on Klaus' shoulders and neck. Klaus groans when Elijah's tongue swirls over his earlobe. 

"Do you still have-" Elijah whispers hoarsely, hands circling Klaus' hips, and Klaus nods quickly. 

"Left drawer."

Elijah flashes to the side of the bed, and Klaus takes the opportunity to get rid of his shoes, socks and pants. Elijah hands him the lube and oil before doing the same. Setting aside the lube for now, Klaus indicates Elijah to lie face down on the bed. Carefully, he warms the oil between his hands before stroking them over the flat of Elijah's back, kneading the strong muscles of his shoulders.

Elijah's soft mewl is muffled by the cushions, but Klaus grins and forces his thumb down into the spot that elicited the response. Elijah's fingers curl in the sheets, his chest rising and falling rapidly rise beneath Klaus' hands. Klaus leans in further and presses a kiss against the nape of Elijah's neck before trailing further down were some blood is left on Elijah's skin. 

Elijah allows it all, submitting to Klaus' administrations, and Klaus feels a rush of wonder. His brother could be dominant, something Klaus had experienced numerous times and often to his own pleasure. But he is actively letting Klaus take the lead now, actively giving him control. Actively trusting him. 

Klaus pours more oil on Elijah's lower back.

"Lift your hips," he orders, slips Elijah's underpants off of him when he obliges. With gentle strokes, he starts massaging Elijah's lower back and buttocks, tracing intricate patterns on his skin, almost as if he is painting. Pleasure spikes in his own groin as Elijah gasps, and suddenly, he is done being gentle.

"Turn around." 

Elijah's erection is clear as he rests on his back, one arm covering his face as he tries - and fails- to control himself. Klaus smirks, own cock hardening further at the sight. He presses a kiss against Elijah's abdomen, proud of his accomplishments.

"So beautiful," he whispers. It's strange, but fitting, how easily they fall back into familiar patterns. He knows Elijah's body as intimately as his own, more intimately even. Whatever feuding had them fighting throughout the ages, during times like these, it all became insignificant.

Klaus changes the oil for lube and pushes Elijah's leg to the side. He places one finger against Elijah's entrance, revelling in the filthy keen coming from his brother's throat as he trails the ring. With a swift movement, he forces his finger inside. Elijah's hips arch up and Klaus moves with him, allowing him to adjust.

"Niklaus," Elijah gasps and Klaus looks over to him. Elijah's face is a wreck, skin flushed and lips parted. But it is the love in his eyes that truly catches Klaus of guard. It suddenly hits Klaus that Elijah might have felt the same anguish at their separation as he had. That it had not been a cruel, one sided thing. Selfishly, it makes him feel better. 

He slips a second finger inside, adding more lube to make it easier and Elijah turns his head upward, mouthing a string of curses and obscenities, hands clutching the sheets. Klaus' cock is throbbing now, heat coiling in his abdomen, impatient for release, and he moves his fingers one, two more times before pulling them out. Not wasting any time, he rips off his own underpants. With a few quick strokes he is fully hard.

He aligns his cock against Elijah's hole.

"Please," his brother breathes, and Klaus pushes his cock inside with a grunt. Elijah's tightness engulfs him, and he groans deeply, hips shuddering with pleasure. He jerks when Elijah's fingers find his cheek, but leans in against Elijah's palm as they both catch their breath.

Then he starts moving, slowly building up the pace, until Elijah is squirming beneath him and he can't restrain himself any longer, desire and pleasure spiking through him at every touch. His hips move faster and faster, angling his thrusts until Elijah cries out. 

" _There_ , more, please." 

He hits the same spot again and again, pleasure building and building. Elijah's fingers curl in his hair, pulling on the strands, and Klaus groans loudly.

"Elijah, _fuck_ -"

He is close now, so close. On impulse, he grabs Elijah's cock and slides his hand down at the same time of his thrust. Elijah wails, his nails scraping over Klaus' lower back as he arches his hips to meet him.

"Niklaus, _yes_ , I'm going to-"

Desperately, Klaus leans down, pressing his lips against Elijah's in a messy kiss. 

"Brother, _Elijah_ -"

Elijah's muscles clench around Klaus, and his helpless, shuddering moan almost sends Klaus over the edge as well. He manages two, three more thrusts before he is engulfed by a blinding wave of pleasure. His vision darkens at the edges as his hips move frantically to draw it out as long as possible, knowing only the heat of Elijah's body beneath and around him.

When he is finally spend his shaking arms refuse to support him, and he collapses heavily on Elijah's chest. They are both shuddering in the aftershock, and Elijah's arms circle around him, pulling him almost painfully close. 

Slowly, their heavy panting subsides, and Klaus becomes gradually aware of his surroundings. A cold draft is blowing over his sweaty skin, and he buries his nose deeper in Elijah's shoulder. He would prefer to lie here forever and ignoring the world outside. But a shivers runs over his skin, and Elijah stirs beneath him. Klaus hisses as it jostles his sensitive cock.

"Brother," Elijah mumbles, voice low and sluggish, "we should..."

With a grunt, Klaus places his hands underneath his shoulders and pushes himself upright. Gently, he pulls himself out of his brother before collapsing again next ro him, staring up at the ceiling. They lie there for a bit longer until Elijah sits upright. Klaus trails him with his eyes, slightly unsure now that their instinctual union is over.

Elijah steps of the bed, unsteady on his feet, and Klaus smirks as he leans on the bedpost for support.

"Don't start," Elijah grumbles without real conviction. He stumbles to the bathroom, and after a moment, the water of the shower turns on. With a soft groan, Klaus rolls of the bed as well and pads after his brother. 

His walk-in shower is luxurious, and is easily big enough for the two of them. Elijah is checking the temperature of the water with one hand as the room fills with steam.

"Do you remember when we had to compel the servants to bring us warm water?" Klaus muses. He grabs two towels so they are ready to use when they are done.

Elijah tilts his head.

"We? I'm quite sure I was the one doing the compelling. Although I do remember dragging you into a river because you refused to bathe."

"The water was freezing," Klaus huffs, but Elijah has already stepped under the hot stream. Klaus swallows, his groin faintly stirring as he watches the water run over Elijah's muscles. It really had been far too long.

"Come on," Elijah encourages gently. Klaus shakes his head, dispelling the thoughts, and steps under the stream with him. The warm water loosens his muscles, and he closes his eyes. He startles slightly when something cold touches his head, but relaxes as Elijah starts to massage soap into his hair, drawing gentle circles over his scalp before moving downwards, cleaning his shoulders and back. A small part of Klaus balks at the intimacy of his movements, but it dissolves under Elijah's careful scrutiny. His limbs grow heavy and Klaus leans into his touch with a pleased hum, allowing Elijah to clean his lower body. 

When Elijah returns to Klaus' hair to wash out the remaining soap, Klaus turns around. He presses his lips against Elijah's, drawing him into a slow kiss. Elijah's chest rumbles, but after a long moment, he pulls back. 

"If we continue, I could start cleaning you again, Brother," he chides. 

"I thought you liked cleaning," Klaus teases, but frowns when Elijah doesn't take the bait. Instead, his brother turns off the water and steps out of the shower.

"Elijah?" 

Klaus grabs a towel, eyeing him carefully. Elijah's shoulders are hunched, and he is drying himself with precise movements. He is clearly thinking. With Elijah, that's never a good sign.

"Brother?" he prompts again, and Elijah looks up, almost startled. He opens his mouth to say something, but catches himself, closing his eyes with a brief grimace.

"Not here," he says instead. Klaus nods, and they dry themselves in silence. Klaus throws Elijah a pair of comfortable sleeping pants to save him the trip to his own room, and to his relief Elijah puts them on without complaining. Back inside the bedroom, Elijah walks over to the liquor cabinet and pours himself and Klaus a drink. Klaus leans against the bed and takes a sip, waiting silently. When Elijah is like this there is no pushing him.

His brother is staring into the distance, his back against the cabinet. 

"I can't do this again, Niklaus."

Klaus stiffens, bile rising in his throat, previous warmth seeping away. 

"What?" 

Elijah runs a hand through his damp hair. He looks exhausted, more so than Klaus has ever seen him. 

"I can't-" Elijah stops himself, searching for words. Then he sets his jaw.

"Promise me something," he demands, gaze hard. "Promise me we will face Lucien together."

Klaus rocks back, shoulders tense, fingers clenching on the glass. His first, primal instinct is to resist. To fight back. He will not be controlled. He will not be manipulated. He will not be weak.

"Elijah-" he warns, unable to keep a low growl out of his voice.

"No."

His brother steps forward, and Klaus' lips curl into an automatic snarl.

"We need to be aligned," Elijah continues forcefully. "We can't face this prophecy if we don't work together."

Elijah is right. Rationally, Klaus knows it. But he can't help the fear burning inside him, setting every nerve on fire. 

"Niklaus."

Elijah's tone is filled with desperation.

"Brother, you _have_ to trust me."

Klaus releases a shuddering breath. Once again, Elijah is reaching out to him. Offering him a bridge. But a large, terrified part of him is screaming silently to not give in. To not give up control to anyone. Not even his brother.

"I can't promise you that."

Elijah flinches back. The hurt is clear before it is abruptly hidden, mask slipping back into place, leaving only disappointment and grief. But the worst is the lowering of his shoulders. The resignation in his stance.

The gab between them is widening, stretching out until it will impossible to cross, separating them forever. 

"But I'll try."

The fear inside howls harder, trying to overwhelm him with everything that could go wrong if he let's down his guard, even for those he loves. But Hayley's words ring inside his mind. _Kindness doesn't make you weak._ He had offered her a partnership. For Hope. For his daughter.

He owes it to Elijah to do the same for him.

"Brother," he says, voice almost a plea. "I know I'm not easy to love."

He smiles wryly through his tears and Elijah's gaze softens a fraction, recognizing his own words. 

"I can't promise you I won't act alone."

Anger and determination lace through his voice. 

"Not if it could save Hope. Or Rebekah. Or you."

He lifts his chin.

"But I'll try."

Elijah is staring at him. Klaus' heart pounds in his chest, and he has to force himself to await Elijah's judgement. When he is sure that Elijah will leave, tell him it is not enough, Elijah's face crumples. With a muffled sob, he pulls Klaus into a hug. Klaus slumps against him, limbs shaking with relief.

Elijah takes a shuddering breath and steps back to press their foreheads together. Klaus exhales, resting against him.

"Alright," Elijah whispers, and his voice has never sounded more beautiful.

"You can stay here tonight, if you want?" Klaus offers softly, and Elijah nods.

Quickly, they change the sheets, and curl up on the bed together, Klaus nestled into the crook of Elijah's arm. Tomorrow, he, Freya, Hayley and Elijah would make a plan to take down Lucien. But for tonight, Klaus is content to listen to his brother's steady heartbeat. 

He could not promise his brother what he wanted. He could not be sure that he would never hurt him again. But he would try.

Try to be better.


End file.
